


the lonely and the broken (hallelujah)

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Biblical Themes (Abrahamic Religions), Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Music, Loss, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Post-World of Warcraft: Legion, Pre-World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, Religion, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Short, Short One Shot, Song: Hallelujah, sorry anduin, yes this is inspired by the story of king david. fuck you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 14:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: there's a blaze of light in every word, / so it doesn't matter which you've heard; / the holy or the broken hallelujah.





	the lonely and the broken (hallelujah)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hallelujah](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/518375) by Leonard Cohen. 

> there's a blaze of light in every word, / so it doesn't matter which you've heard; / the holy or the broken hallelujah.

Things get better; Anduin knows this. But he wonders if it's already too late for a happy ending.

He heard stories of a great king once. A king who had ultimately doomed himself and his kin. Anduin was young, so he doesn't remember the names, but the end of the story stuck with him. There had been a certain rebellious nature in the defeat of the king. He'd accepted it, but didn't _like_ it. He'd continued to grapple with his fate; to attempt to atone. 

Anduin chuckles at the half-remembered tales, now. He supposes he has something in common with the great king. They're stubborn. They want the best, though it may not be possible. They keep trying anyway.

It isn't just the crushing weight of loss anymore. It's the way the crown sits on his head, heavy and lopsided, clearly made for someone stronger in every sense. It's the darkness sitting in the pit of his chest that only grows when he turns to ask for advice from someone who isn't there. It's reports of innocent people dying. Even reports of soldiers dying, though they knew they might give their lives, adds weight to the tassels on his shoulders. 

The Light offers some solace. It's warm and it's healing and it feels like immeasurable love, even through closed eyes and stone walls. He goes to it when he wakes and before he sleeps. He asks for advice, and though no answer ever comes, he feels better for it. He tells of his own strengths and weaknesses, his victories and failures (both as a king and as a man), and feels a presence he can't quite place. He asks forgiveness. He isn't sure if he receives it.

He'll get odd looks sometimes, when he thinks he's alone in his study late at night, sweeping everything from his desk and sending it all crashing to the ground before he puts his head in his hands on the floor. When he screams curses at the sky as rain pours down his face. When the shadows curl around the tips of his fingers and his palms. When he spits that the Light itself is damned, and all of them with it. But even as he says it, he can feel the searing, scorching power in his chest. The Light remains, ablaze within him, and pushes him onward. He continues, despite the world driving itself to the edge of madness, bringing him right along to the brink.

Things get better; Anduin knows this. But he wonders how.


End file.
